A Flash of Green
by gostlcards
Summary: Sister story to "Burning Up A Sun"; Mary is stuck in FTL, trying to get back to her family, and Emma is keeping herself busy until that day comes.


AN: The sister story/sequel to "Burning Up A Sun"; you don't have to read that before this (although, I do recommend it-but I am biased ;) ) but know the gist is that Emma comes back without Mary. There is some Charming/Emma fluff...I can't seem to not write that, no matter what my intentions are when I start a story :p i can't help it, I'm a daddy's girl lol. My goal for this was to be more fun than the last one, which was pretty much pure angst. So I hope you all enjoy :) the draft of this was finished before tonight's ep, so it's AU from that, as there are some things we saw in FTL that are different than the story is.

Disclaimer: Again, none of it's mine :)

* * *

Sometimes Mary feels so lost; and not even metaphorically, but really, very lost. This land has changed so greatly, with great towers in ruin and miles upon miles of land charred yellow and brown in the hot sun that beats down without respite. She has lost clothes along the way, tying her cardigan around her head as a hat to cool her and tearing her jeans so that they are only shorts; she keeps the shoes, because they are useful as she walks long distances through brush and brambles, and she has killed a few animals now for food and kept their pelts for blankets at night. She carries them rolled up on her back, and harkens back to a time when she lived off the land, in a cave, stealing from the Queen's carts when she could and surviving the only way she knew how.

She checks in with the haven of survivor every couple of days, sometimes sending sparrows and larks with messages scrawled. Mulan and Aurora stayed behind at the camp weeks before, close to after Emma had left, as she told them she needed to travel and find a way home, even if the others needed their help. She keeps on her persons a mirror she swiped from Regina's old rooms, a small compact that she sometimes, in the dark of night by the fire, uses to contact Emma, or Charming. The connection is never long, and never very good-it's a small mirror, after all-but even hearing their voices and seeing their faces helps all the more. She thinks often of how Charming pressed a finger to her own in it, the one eye she could see conveying more meaning that she could ever hope for. She knew he was remembering the night in the Queen's dungeons, and she reminded him with only a smile; they found each other then, and they will find a way back to each other now.

As she stands on the bluffs overlooking the sea, and what looks to be the remnants of an once prosperous wharf, she feels more devoid of hope than she has in many, many years, even when she was locked in the cell as Mary Margaret, because at least then, she still had someone; she is alone here, and through everything she's searched-for fairy dust, or magic mirrors, and magic trees-she has found nothing. She wipes at her eyes to prevent the tears from falling, and starts to turn when a voice interrupts her movement and she freezes, the familiar voice sending a shiver of momentary panic coursing through her.

"Aye, lassie. Why the damp eyes? Feeling a bit lost, are we?"

The pit of her stomach coils and she closes her eyes. Of course he's been tracking her; she wonders if maybe he was there when Emma jumped to Storybrooke, or if Cora was with him now, as it appeared earlier they were working together. But when she turns, it is only the man dressed in black scarves, and a silver hook where a hand should be. She draws her bow and pulls an arrow at her quiver, and he laughs at her ferocity. "Easy there, lady. I mean you no harm."

"And I'm just supposed to take you at your word? I know far more of your exploits than my daughter or Aurora ever did." She raises the loaded bow, tracking backwards and moving in a circle around him to make her escape.

"Ah, yes, well, I love to be so illustrious." He teases, but his expression soon grows serious. He pulls a sword from his hip with his good hand. "Now, come on lass, can't we just have a civil discussion."

She releases the arrow without another word and hits him just above the knee, and he hits the ground with hiss of pain for a moment before shooting back up and dashing at her. Not expecting him to react as such, she does not dash as fast as she could've and he grabs at her ankle, bringing her down. He has dropped his sword for now, but instead pulls a dagger as he climbs up her body as she squirms under him. He holds it at her throat.

"Now." He says sharply, almost out of breath as he presses the blade into her flesh to draw a drop of blood. "We both have agenda's. You want to go home; I want to go with you."

"Cora..."

"Cora is gone, I'm done with her. She was a tired old, demanding nag who wasn't much fun, but you..." He smiles, drawing up. She flips over, glaring up at him from her pinned position as he pulls him self up on his good leg, the injured one bent to keep the weight from it. "You have spirit. I admire spirit. Your lovely daughter had that too."

"You stay away from her!" Mary snaps, wishing she had had something other than just the bow to defend herself with; she cannot quite reach the dagger she keeps behind her back, and he has not been wise enough to pat her down yet. Maybe if she can get up...

He laughs at her warning, and offers a hand, which she studies warily. He sighs. "I just want to get to wherever you're from too."

"...why? What business do you have there?"

"That's my business." He retorts sharply, the mention of it bristling him, but he calms himself soon enough. "Believe me, it has nothing to do with you and yours, and you have my word that I will not bother you in the least if I'm not welcome once we're there." He winks. "Pirate's honor."

She decides he seems less than threatening now, trusting the gut feeling that has sprung within her, so she reaches for his hand to allow him to help her up. As he does, she scoffs. "Pirate's honor. What an oxymoron that is."

"Ay now!" He exclaims, bending to grab her bow for her. She is tempted to knee him in the face and knock him down before running, but she does not; the truth is, she is out of options, and he may have some idea. Some way, some clue from Cora, on how to return home. Inconspicuously, she brushes her lower back, relieved to feel the handle of the dagger still in it's place at waist of her pants. "We do live by a code, you know. I mean what I say!"

"Well, I'll believe it when I get home. If you're lying, you can deal with me AND my husband and daughter." She hopes he takes it as the warning it is; the way he smirks but his eyebrows flash upward indicate he's considering it. "So, do you have a plan?"

He sighs. "I have a ship, and a crew of only 15. But that's something." He pauses and stares out over the infinite body of water in front of them. "There are tales, you know, of the sea. I'm hoping..."

"You're hoping your ship may be able to take us there." She finishes. He purses his lips as he looks at her, and nods.

"You don't think me a madman?"

She barks a laugh as she shoulders the bow, and gestures at him to follow her as they walk back down the bluff, the outline of a ship in the distance coming around from a cove she did not notice before. "Not for this. Believe me, wait until we get back to Storybrooke. Crazy may not be as far off as you think."

* * *

Days and weeks pass far quicker than Emma would've thought they were going to with Mary Margaret being gone. Her father had been acting as Sheriff in her stead, but now that she had returned, he had handed the reins back to her, and there was more than plenty to deal with amongst the townspeople who'd been fighting to regain some sense of normalcy back into their lives. Now, with almost a month gone, she collapses at the dining room table she once only shared with Mary, a groan passing her lips as she rests her head on her folded arms. Dropping Henry off at Regina's for his weekend with her was the low point of her day, but not by much, and she closes her eyes against the fabric of her sweater, wishing for what used to be normal and longing for Mary's soft voice to pull her back up.

"Long day?"

Her father's voice is soothing, she is surprised to find, and she raises up with a soft smile, pleasantly surprised to see him slide a mug of cocoa to her. They have grown quite close in the small amount of time they've been sharing the apartment-and jobs, as he acts as her deputy-and he offers a smile as he slides in across from her. She leans back, hands wrapped around the mug in front of her.

"Thank you." She says softly, sipping at it. She closes her eyes in contentment, peeling off her boots with her feet as she slouches back. "Ugh, I swear; was Leroy this big of a pain in the other place?"

"Worse." David remarks with a soft laugh. "There are stories I could tell..." He trails off, shaking his head. "It's of no matter."

"No, tell." She insists, pulling her arms into herself. "I could use some commiserating after a day like today."

David groans with a half laugh; he's been with Henry for most of the day, before Emma stopped by the apartment to pick her son up to take him to Regina's. David has always offered to do it himself, insisting after a long day that she relax, but she always declined. He knows that it is difficult for her to do, to trust Henry with the Witch still, but she is also his mother and he does, despite his sometimes less than eager admittance, enjoy being with her. And Regina was trying; after what Snow had done for Emma, she has been trying to offer ways to help get Snow home, but was never successful, obviously. She has even tried to help with other things around the town, but the townspeople are not as forgiving as the Charming's have been; who could really blame them?

Emma laughs at his question. "Apparently there is a nun, or fairy...or something, that he has taken a shine to, or always had a crush on, or...I don't know. But he got into it with the Mother Superior today and it was just..." She groaned. "It's just a lot to handle, still."

"You're handling it very well though." He reassures. She ducks her head, a slight flush coloring her cheeks; the praise is still not something she's used to.

"You promised me a story." She cajoles as she changes the subject, and he can see the hint of a grin on her lowered expression. He laughs.

"Ah yes. Well." He leans back as well, his forearm on the table as he reaches back to the counter for his tea. "Your nursery had just been commissioned, and the boys had offered to help. Snow was always such good friends with them, and accepted."

"You didn't like them?"

"No, it wasn't that." He defends quickly, shaking his head. "But, they are brothers. And as brothers, well...they tend to argue a bit, sometimes. And Grumpy had decided himself the director of the whole thing. By the time I got there, Snow was in a corner by herself, thinking way too much about her step-mother, and Grumpy was about to rip apart the crib and break your mobile in an effort to be right about something." He can't help but grin at the memory of the dwarves playing tug of war with the furniture, though he'd been so irritated with it at the time. He wishes things could be so simple once again.

When she raises her head, her hair falling to the side, she looks almost mournful. "We were in the nursery, Mary and I, back in the other place. Did I tell you that?"

She has mentioned it, he remembers from the hectic night after she returned, the story of the burned out wardrobe the reason she had been able to come back. That was all. "You may have mentioned it when you came back." He replies evenly, not wanting to push her. It is the first time since the first night she had returned that she had mentioned anything from her time there, being very much focused on the matters at hand rather than opening up. She sips at her drink once more with a satisfied hum.

"It was...a mess, really." She says with a laugh, but a smile on her lips. "The crib you mentioned...it was all toppled over, and there were stuffed animals everywhere, really big ones." She shook her head. "I always wanted one when I was a kid, one of those teddy bears that were as big as I was, but..." She trails off, both of them quiet now. It didn't matter anymore, really. _I should just shut up,_ she thinks to herself.

He grabs at her hand softly from across the table, and she can see the muscles in his forearm are tense and nervous. She looks up at him to see he's unsure. "I'm sorry you didn't get to have it."

She smiles sadly. "I know. I am too."

They sit there is silence for a few moments, the things they needed to say having been said, and drink the rest of their mugs until they're empty. The dim light of the kitchen appears to expand as lightening strikes somewhere close outside. David's brow furrows.

"Is it supposed to storm tonight?"

Emma sighs, rising as she collects her own glass and his before taking them to the sink. "Appears so. Dolly Storm mentioned on the radio that there may be something rolling in." She cocks her head to the side, eyes narrowing in though. "Hey, wait a minute. Is she from Oz? Cause her name..."

David shrugs. "I don't know, I'm not nearly as well versed in the other realms as your mother was."

Emma drops the mugs at the mention of _her mother_, but they do not break, to his relief. He hurries over to the sink to make sure she's alright, that nothing has broken but she backs up, her arms up in defense. "I'm fine, it's fine, it's..." She swallows heavily as she takes a shuttering breath. "I just really miss her is all, and hearing you call her that..."

"I know, I'm sorry..."

"No, it's fine. She is. And that's why she sent me through, when she could've come to. I just really wish she was here." Her voice is broken, and she shakes her head. "I'm going to head to bed, it's been a long day."

She hugs him goodnight, as she has been doing more often as she's returned, and allows him to hold it for a few moments longer than usual as he rubs a hand over her back in an attempt to make her feel a bit better. The smile she gives him when she pulls back shows him she appreciates the gesture, but he is crestfallen to see her eyes still sad. He takes what he can get, and presses a kiss to her forehead that she allows before she turns and dashes up the stairs to her room. With a sigh, he turns to the sink and rinses the mugs out before heading to his room as well.

He will be so relieved when Snow is back.

* * *

Neither is awake when the pounding sounds at the door in the morning.

It is a little past 9 am when they are both pulled from their slumber, their alarms not being set until later in the morning to allow them to rest for the weekend. Emma, who has always enjoyed laying in bed until mid morning, grumbles as she rises, throwing on a pair of pants and an old shirt as she stumbles sleepily down the winding stairs. David greets her with a confused look, waiting at the closed door as someone on the other side yells and pounds at it. She frowns.

"What are you waiting for, it could be an emergency!"

"Well, you're the sheriff!" He shoots back, a teasing lilt to his tone. With a wink at her, he opens the door. Grumpy tumbles in, followed closely by Happy and...Bashful, she thinks, by the way he hangs back. But even Archie is there, and the Mother Superior, with a petite blonde who Emma recognizes as one of the nuns. They look aghast, and worried, and lost. Emma straightens.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Her heart feels as if it halts her in her chest, Henry appearing in her minds eyes. If he is hurt or lost, she will not rest until-

"It's the harbor!" Exclaims Grumpy, his eyes wide. "There's a ship, in the harbor, that looks like it arrived with the storms!"

"A ship? Like...a boat, ship?"

It's a stupid question, she knows, and her father shoots her a withering glance as he reaches for his boots, clad only in jeans and an old shirt as well. She follows suit.

"Honestly, if I had to guess..." The mother superior is quiet from behind, as if she cannot fully believe what she is about to say.

"It is," The blonde chirps in. "I know it is, from when it was in Never land. It's the Jolly Roger!"

Emma and David exchange looks, stunned in silence as they are frozen in the middle of putting on their shoes. The mother superior spares a scathing glance at the younger girl, apparently for interrupting, but Emma ignores her.

"And who are you?" Emma asks. The girl smiles back.

"Well...my Storybrooke name is Kerry," She begins softly. "But back home, I was known as Tinkerbell."

Emma pales considerably, rubbing at her forehead as her mind began to spin. After Ogres, and witches, and wraiths...she was still never going to get used to this.

* * *

By the time they arrive at the wharf, there is a substantial gathering of citizens standing everywhere, which makes Emma groan inwardly. Dealing with something that has just appeared out of nowhere is not what she wants to do in front of a bunch of inquiring busy body's. She spots Regina, with Henry tucked under arm, staring intently at the ship in the distance where it's anchored and audibly groans. David follows her gaze and sighs in disappointment, but pats her on the shoulder for support. "I'll send someone over to run interference."

"What about you?"

He frowns, crossing his arms as he squares off. "What about me? I'm coming with you."

Emma stifles a groan. There is a small boat on the shore of the water, sent by the ship in the sea to the town that stated to merely send representatives from the town; that they did not want to come ashore without permission and that they meant them no harm.

"David..."

"You're not going out there by yourself." He warns with a pointed look. "Two is better than one, and you have no idea who's on that ship."

"And what about Regina, and everyone else?"

"Red can go distract Regina." He offers, and she scowls, but Red, who is paces behind them seems more than eager to help and takes off without another word. Realizing there is no dissuading him otherwise, she emits a loud, exasperated sigh as she nods curtly. She pulls her gun from it's holster to check and make sure it's loaded, and he, being old fashioned, adjusts the sword at his hip. She bites her lip to keep from smiling at the motion and he shakes his head, raising his eyebrows. "Make all the faces you want, she's staying."

"I didn't say anything..." She holds up her arms in defense as she treads to the water's edge, pushing through the crowd. "It's just a gun may be better."

"You don't know who is on that ship, and what kind of weapons they have."

"All the better to have my semi-automatic." She volley's back. As they reach the boat, ignoring the questions the townspeople are lobbing their way, she looks at him seriously. "You do have yours on you though, right?"

He knows she is asking out of concern, and he is carrying it because he knows she likes him to, so he nods. Satisfied, she straightens up and looks at the crowd. Putting her fingers in her lips, she whistles sharply, drawing their attention. "We're going to approach them. We will handle this; please do not take it upon yourselves to do anything."

"Wouldn't it be better to let them come here, instead of you going out there?" Grumpy asks, hands on the hips.

It's true, she knows, but she still frowns at him. They're trying to proactively handle this; the ship has been in the harbor since the sun dawned that morning, yet there has been nothing but the small boat and request they sent earlier. They can either deal with this upfront, or they wait for those on the ship; considering what she experienced in other realm, she'd rather not do the latter.

She let's David take the oars and paddle out to the ship, and as they come abreast of the vessel, a rope is tossed to them from the deck. The father and daughter pair exchange looks, and he takes the rope before she can; if whatever up there is dangerous, he wants to be able to keep her from harm as well.

Once they're on deck, though, he calms. It appears the crew is docile and even apathetic, lounging on barrels and piles of rope, as if they were expecting these guests. A man in the middle of it all pushes himself to his feet, a smirk on his face as she raises his chin before speaking. "It's about time you came out for a visit."

"_You_." Emma spits as she pulls herself up. David grabs her forearm to steady her as she gathers her bearings and it seems, to keep her from lunging at the man. He laughs in response to her, pulling his folded hands from behind his back. David's breath catches as the sunlight glints of the silver hook where a hand should be.

"But how?" He whispers.

Hook doesn't say a word; he merely turns his attention to the poop deck above the captains quarter to a spot next to the ship's wheel. There, hidden by the shadow of the mast and the bright sunlight shines the frame of a woman with long leather pants and jacket. Her hair is short. From behind him, David hears a strangled gasp comes from Emma's lips.

"Hello, Charming." She shifts her arm so that it rests on the wheel, cocking her hips to the side with a grin. "Didn't I tell you both I'd find my way home?"

* * *

Emma doesn't think she's ever seen David move so quickly. She stares, completely dumbfounded as he takes less than five strides to cover the length of the deck, skipping steps as he climbs and takes her in his arms without a word, kissing her deeply. Emma finds herself a bit embarrassed, and it is to no end helped when the crew begins their cat calls and whistles. When they pull apart-finally-neither seems to have noticed their audience, although Emma can see how close to tears they both are.

They whisper back and forth for a few seconds before Mary caresses his cheek for a moment and slides past him, hurrying down the steps and across the deck, she stops short of Emma, evident to be holding back. Emma is still stunned by this turn of events, staring at Mary Margaret without speaking. Mary looks about to explode.

"You're okay." She breathes, walking closer, extending her hand to touch her daughter's face, brushing a stray lock of hair behind her ear. Emma's eyes dart around the ship, not sure of how to react and uncomfortable with the audience they have. "You look wonderful."

"Are you okay? How did you get back?" Her voice is soft. Mary chuckles in a breathy sort of way, rolling her eyes and shifting on her feet.

"That is a story for later, when we get home."

_Home_. The word fills Emma's chest with this warm, swishy feeling and she can feel tears pricking the corners of her eyes. "I'm so happy you're back, Mare. I've missed you."

It's all Snow needs to hear. She throws her arms around her daughter, squeezing her tightly. "I know you're mad still, but I had to, and I'm sorry. You look like you've done wonderfully while I've been away."

But she hasn't! She really, really hasn't; there have been too many sleepless nights, too many showers she's stood in too long and kept from crying in, too many nightmares. Too many people, who need too many things, expectations on so many fronts that she doesn't know how to meet. But she doesn't say any of that, because that's not really her style. Instead, she squeezes her mother back just as tightly, swallowing hard as she allows one tear slip from a corner of her eye. "Just...don't ever do that again, okay? Stay with us from now on."

Mary's laughter is musical. "That is something I can most certainly do."

* * *

"So...you said later, you'd tell me how you got back." Emma hands her mother a hot mug as she enters the living room and takes a seat in an armchair adjacent to her. Mary nods, sipping at it with a contented sigh.

"I did, I did..."

"So?"

Mary smiles, curling up with a blanket on the couch, hair damp from a shower right after walking in the house. "Well. You remember those movies Henry made us watch about Jack Sparrow and the Pirates of the Caribbean?"

"Please don't tell me you met Jack Sparrow."

"Oh Gods, no...but how exciting would that have been?" Mary shifts toward Emma now, a grin on her lips. "However, I remembered from the last one, how they moved from that one world to the other...we weren't positive it was going to work, but we were so far out of options and Hook had heard tales..."

Emma pales. "You convinced them to flip the boat?"

Mary smirks, and sits a little taller, leaning toward her daughter. "I convinced them to flip the boat."

In their room, David smiles as he hear peals of laughter echo from the front room. Henry is at Regina's, as per the original plan, and he has begged off for the night to give them their time alone together. He closes his eyes and curls on his side, leaving enough room for Snow to come in and snuggle up later, and he slips away to sleep easier than he has all month. His family was whole once more; there will be plenty of time to catch up in the weeks and months to come.


End file.
